It’s the upmarket cocktail that’s making America feel great again – until the hangover kicks in, of course.
The alcohol-heavy Trumptini with the moderately yuuuge price tag is also set to make Donald Trump considerably more wealthy, after the presumptive Republican presidential nominee this week shifted a portfolio of trademarks, including that of the colourful tipple, into business-friendly Delaware, presumably for tax purposes.
Taking seriously the Guardian’s mission to fully chronicle every aspect of the general election campaign, we set out to investigate the Trumptini with some in-depth research in the Fusion Lounge at the Trump International Beach Resort in Miami Beach.
We found that while several variations of The Donald’s favoured aperitif seem to exist, all have one element in common – a single twist of decadence that elevates the Trumptini beyond a cocktail for the common voter and into one of truly presidential stature.
Elsewhere, variants of the drink are served using vodka and vermouth, occasionally infused with gold flakes. But here in Miami, Frantz Fiefie, head barman at Trump International for 12 years, insists the hotel’s signature Trumptini cocktail, with its lemon peel garnish carved into a large letter T, is the real deal.
A staple of its cocktail menu since the years between Trump’s second and third wives, it blends Bacardi Limon rum, Cointreau, fresh lemon and a splash of cranberry juice served in a Rokz salt-rimmed martini glass, with a scoop of premium red Atlantic salmon caviar as its crowning glory.
“It’s just like Trump’s character – nice and mellow,” Fiefie says, winking as he pours the cocktail from the shaker.
At a cost of $14, which rises to more than $18 with the addition of sales taxes and obligatory 18% service charge, the Trumptini is not a drink for losers. Yet for the well-heeled clientele at Trump’s resort, choosing to sip one as a pre-dinner pick-me-up is more than just a political statement.
Just like the presidential candidate himself, the cocktail is a thing of many layers. The drink’s initial sourness gives way to an explosion of citrus on the tastebuds from the lemon rum before the deeper and heavier flavour of the Cointreau hits home.
But it is the salty luxuriousness of the soft caviar that lends the Trumptini its true air of dissipation, more worthy of a $1,000-a-ticket charity concert at Trump’s exclusive Mar-a-Lago palace further up the Florida coast than a hotel lobby bar in Miami.
“With the election coming up I think the Trumptini is about to make a comeback,” predicted Fiefie, who used to serve the cocktail often until about five years ago, when it disappeared from the printed menu as part of the resort’s regular cycle of options. He still makes them when asked but says that demand has waned.
“Maybe we’re going to serve it with a dish of caviar on the side,” he added. “It has the Trump name, so it must also have the Trump quality.”
Has Trump himself ever tried the cocktail?
“I saw him here once a few years ago when he was filming the Celebrity Apprentice, but he never stopped by at the bar,” Fiefie said.
That’s not entirely a surprise – Trump is a famous teetotaller.
“But his son and daughter did. I think they liked it.”
